The Things We Fear

It was August. August in California. Marcus should not be able to see his breath before him. The thing that had come through the door, because he hesitated to call it a creature, moved slowly closer. It was what he had always imagined the shadows would look like if they ever succeeded in crossing into this dimension. If they tried to take a physical form on this plane.

He took a step away, nearer to the windows, to the precious moonlight seeping in. If this was a shadow creature, it shouldn’t be able to cross anything sunlight, even if it was simply reflected. Though he was already questioning this assumption, this thing clearly wasn’t affected by the fluorescents above. Flickering though they were.

He didn’t know why, but subconsciously he’d always expected the shadows to have some form of scent. Maybe reading the bible and tales of fire and brimstone had subconsciously filtered through his thoughts. Despite being in a bathroom, there were no unpleasant smells, one perk of being around supernaturals, with such strong noses their hygiene standards were significantly higher than the average human. As this creature moved ever slowly in his direction, there was no scent of sulfur, nothing foul to indicate its potential evil.

Other than the black swirling mass that looked like a void trying to figure out how to make itself look human, there was nothing obvious about it being a danger, and yet his gut screamed at the danger prowling in his direction. It was as though the world was changing speed, slowing down to a crawl. There was nothing to show this was happening, nothing falling at an impossible speed, but it was how he felt. His mind was making less and less sense as the thing drew closer and closer.

“What do you want?” Marcus forced out.

It wasn’t even dark, he had nothing to fear from this thing, at least that was what he told himself. It had yet to do anything other than move ominously closer, but for all the supernatural creatures he had learned about, there were likely thousands he had never even heard of, just because this thing looked like one of his nightmares brought to life, did not mean it was inherently a danger. Did not automatically make it something evil or something to fear.

It did not respond. Barely a metre away from him now, it was as though someone had pressed the gas pedal on his heart as the revving stuttered before pulsing at full throttle. His throat was closing around the air he tried to force down. His body was trying to curl in on itself. Protect him from the world. Memories of that night flashed through his brain, the earth-halting terror as the darkness reached out to him.

There were no bloody bodies here. No people in hoods standing in the shadows. He was entirely alone, with just this thing for company, and yet he could almost hear the chanting from that basement. Could see as his arm hairs raised up trying to escape his skin and flee the situation.

Marcus had to forcibly keep his legs from buckling and dropping to the floor. They may have drooped a little, but he refused to cave and be swallowed by his fear. He had faced far worse than this. Every time he had looked into Cassius’ eyes as a child he had relived that night, always wondered when he would end up as the dead body on that slab, he might fear his future, might be terrified by the things living in the shadows, but there was still light in the room, he was safe as long as there wasn’t total darkness. Shadows were weakest in the light, a creature entirely composed of shadows could be no different.

As though hearing his thought, the flickering tubes above gave one bright burst before giving up the ghost. Marcus heard his own sharp intake of breath.

“It’s okay, there’s still moonlight,” he said, trying to reassure himself.

He wanted to turn to the window behind him but didn’t dare take his eyes off the thing in front of him. Its arm stretched toward him as it was almost close enough to touch. He tried to swallow down the whimper, but it escaped regardless of his attempts to quell it. He knew. Like he always knew. He knew what was about to happen. It was a horror movie cliche, just like his life. The moonlight was sucked away. Probably behind a cloud but he refused to check. He was pressed against the wall, in the dark, with the shadow creature inches from him.

Marcus heard a chuckle. Deep. Otherworldly. Like it was travelling down a great tunnel before escaping the thing before him. Inhumane.

“What–,” he coughed a little, clearing his throat, “What do you want?” it was barely a whisper but he’d managed to squeeze the sentence from his closing windpipe.

“Everything,” it sounded like a thousand voices echoing from a chamber miles away. He was reminded once more about the stories of the legion all possessing one body. The shadows were many, this thing for all it appeared as one beast, could well be a collective.

As a hand grasped around his throat, at least Marcus thought it was a hand. The sharp claws that threatened pain against his skin implied it may be more claw-like than anything a human might have.

“Give me, everything,” it breathed against him as a crushing weight came over his body.

He felt like he was being swallowed whole by the darkness. Submerged underwater with no hope of ever reaching the surface. He might have screamed, but there was no air in the void, nowhere for the sound to travel. He could feel the blood rushing through him, but even as his pulse pounded against his ear drums, he heard nothing,

Nothing. Heard nothing. Could touch nothing. He was becoming nothing. Losing all that he was. His throat felt raw from its attempts to make sounds. To let the panic through him escape into the world beyond. Yet the more he tried, the more he screaemed, thrashed, hit and punched, the less energy he had to continue. The less he became. Losing pieces of himself. As though this thing were swallowing all the parts which broke away from his body. His energies. His soul. All were being consumed, and the harder he fought, the faster it ate.

It was perhaps the first time in a decade he felt truly alone. The shadows, for all they terrified him, had always been there. Always whispering, commenting, hissing, or worse, inviting him to join them. Telling him to step into the darkest and become one with them. Eagerly informing Marcus–he was Marcus, right? Informing his younger self that he belonged in the darkness. That the shadows would embrace him.

In the deafening roar of nothingness, he realised he could not hear them anymore. Could not hear their cries. The way they would taunt or cajole him. The way they liked to warn him, compliment him, tempt him. The joy they felt at his fear, and the way they whispered secrets he should not know, like who was cheating on who, and the answers to the test he was struggling on. Marcus never thought, would never have believed, that he might miss their voices.

In emptiness, as he was slowly breaking apart, a strange numbness began to descended. The heavy blanket of earlier felt more like a the weighted one he used in winter. Comforting. Instead of flying apart, it was keeping him together. A heat began to travel up his spine. Chasing away the cold of the void. Like the hug of a long missed friend as they brought you in close and squeezed hard enough to assure themselves you were real.

Air returned to his lungs, the voices weren’t back, but he knew they were still close by. Reaching. Stretching out their tendrils through the darkness and reaching for him. Is heart rate slowly returning to normal. His greatest fear had been what lived in the darkness. Had been what might happen if he ever surrendered to the shadows and accepted them as his own. Here, in this eternal void, the reality was both worse and less than he could have ever feared.

The shadows coudn’t reach him here, so it was safer, and yet, it felt like he was missing a piece of himself. This didn’t feel like what he had always been scared might come to pass, this felt like death. Endless. Cold. Empty. It was scary, but as Marcus regained his breath, as the fire of life lit in his core once more, he accepted there were far worse fates than death, and he would burn away the thing masquerading as his shadows.

Light engulfed the room around him. The bathroom mirrors reflected the fire that had burst from his centre and pushed away the swirling creature. Spotting the door, he realised he didn’t have long. Seconds at most. He could breath again, but there was still not enough oxygen in his limbs to run, stumbling to his feet he tried to rush toward the doorway, but wobbled, gripping the nearest sink in an attempt to support the jelly masquerading as bones.

The whispers were back. The shadows hissing and shouting at the creature. Like vines attempting to hold it in place. Keep it in the darkness whilst the fire took form and like a snake prepared to strike. Marcus did not remain to watch, taking his chance he threw open the door and slammed it behind him. Hoping the fire and the creature would not follow him.

He escaped the bathroom, but the thing was still behind. He wasn’t safe. The hallways outside were as dark as the bathroom had become. He idly wondered why none of the supernatural creatures had come to his aid? Surely the sound of the drum in his chest should have been enough to alert them to something being wrong? Even if he had failed to scream, they must have smelt his fear?

He remembered Daniel’s words about having enemies, was this an attempt to get back at him for supposedly hurting (embarassing) Cassius? Something wasn’t fitting together. He’d been gone too long, at the very least Theo should have come looking for him by now. The way James had been gluing himself to Marcus’ side had made him hope the other boy might care enough to check as well. Maybe he was being stupid, thinking that anyone in that room might care enough to help. They weren’t human, what would they care for him? Someone who had openly rejected his heritage and the supernatural as a whole. They wouldn’t care about his reasons, why he chose the safety of the mundane world to the dangers his father posed, why he still had nightmares about the things living in the dark, why should they? To them he was nothing more than an ungrateful son.

The air chilled once more. His thoughts spiralling lower and lower. Marcus was alone. He would always be alone. Alone in the dark. The velvet of the walls began to disappear beneath his finger tips. The usual shudder and jerking his boyd had in response to the fabric lost to how his sense of touch dulled. The hallway was dark, and yet he could have sworn it gew darker. It was happening again. He was losing himself to whatever that thing was.

He wanted to shout, to hope even if no one else came, at least Theo would hear him. His best friend would at least try to get to him. But nothing escaped. He was slowly being absorbed once more. His stomach dropped to his feet as the swirling sensation of terror began to crawl up his back. It was hear, and it was pissed he’d managed to escape. If only temporarily.

His dad had said it was as though Rod had been scared to death. Abigail had said the rogue vampire bit Theo because it had lost its sanity to it’s fear. And now he was about to join them. Even in the dark he could feel as his eyes clouded over, losing their razorsharp view of the world that came with panic and hypervigilance. Could sense as it reached out for him once more, those sharp claws running along his outstretched arms.

It was in front of him. Blocking his escape back to the main ball room. He couldn’t go forward and was too afraid to go back. His limbs locked in place. His mind screaming “What should I do?” but instead of answers, it simply screamed some more. Marcus was trapped. His next attempt to shout came out like a whimper. He tried to call for Theo, for James, fuck at this point he would have evn called for Cassius, but his voice had been stolen from him.

As the darkness began to encase him once more, the ice of its touch burnt. It felt like a warning, it’s way of saying Marcus would be hurt if he tried to escape again. The shadows were being held back, he could almost see the way they tried to force their way into the dome he was trapped within. The magic carrying a light of its own that his human eyes might not be able to pick up, but his third eye could.

As he felt it about to claim him once more, he was physically grabbed from behind. The next thing he registered was his head bouncing off a hard surface as he was slammed into a wall.